


Baddest In The Game

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall can eat pussy like a champ, and Liam suddenly has one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1.

**Author's Note:**

> written for the kink meme yo

Liam folds his legs up over the side of the bed and leans against Niall, watching him take another swig of overpriced beer from the minibar. He can see his boobs shifting around a bit underneath his t-shirt as he moves, but it’s either this or wear a bra, and Liam feels like he’s chosen the lesser of two evils. Still, he can’t help but glare down at them a bit resentfully.

Niall looks too, but his gaze is more curious than angry. None of the lads were particularly surprised about this whole business; “routine tour shenanigans” was the phrase that Louis had used. Even Danielle hadn’t been too bothered, once he’d managed to convince her he wasn’t lying. Instead, she’d told him that while she was sure his tits were beautiful, that wasn’t an avenue of experimentation she was particularly open to at the moment, and then given him her blessing to go forth and explore the wonders of the female form any way that he saw fit.

Truth be told, Liam isn’t finding it very wonderful at all. He crosses both arms over his chest protectively to avoid Niall’s gaze. Niall just grins, wide and easy, setting down his empty bottle of Heineken and turning to check Liam out even more blatantly.

Liam is suddenly quite aware of their proximity, and the slight, buzzed flush to Niall’s cheeks, and the fact that he hasn’t even been able to look at himself naked for 72 hours now without having a very small panic attack.

There’s a steady, throbbing tingle between his legs, and he feels warm all over, and Niall hasn’t even touched him. Not for the first time, Liam is stunned by the reactivity of this body. Now isn’t the time for deep observations, however, and he shifts pointedly away from Niall, getting a pillow between them as a barrier.

“You’re drunk,” he says inanely. 

Niall just nods, smiling magnanimously. “A bit.” 

Moving slowly, now, like Liam is some kind of startled animal, he moves the pillow out of the way and gives Liam a look that has him feeling practically dizzy. It must be hideously tiring, getting turned on this fast all the time, thinks Liam distantly. Or maybe there’s just something wrong with him.

Either way, he doesn’t protest this time when Niall moves closer again, blatantly checking out his tits even though he’s wearing a baggy shirt and they probably aren’t much to look at anyway. 

Niall’s hand on his shoulder is a surprise even though it’s obviously what they’ve been dancing around, and Liam’s heartbeat quickens at the solid pressure. 

“Don’t worry about it,” says Niall, and he chews his lower lip in a way that should look completely stupid but just turns out a bit obscene.

“God,” groans Liam, frustrated with this whole situation, and Niall just grins and guides him down to lean back against the bed, putting the pillow under his head and settling himself in between Liam’s thighs.

He reaches up under Liam’s t-shirt and splays his hand out across his stomach, and fuck if something as simple as that doesn’t have Liam’s face turning bright red, wanting to squeeze his legs together but not being able to since Niall is currently situated in between them. 

Niall’s hand pushes up even further until he’s cupping one of Liam’s breasts, running his thumb carefully up the soft underside and over a nipple. The pads of his fingers are guitar-calloused and rough against the sensitive skin. 

He keeps thumbing over and over the nipple until it stiffens almost painfully, and then he reaches up for the other one and starts gently rolling it between his fingers, and Liam wants to die. The warmth and tingling has spread, intensified, leaving him squirming on the sheets and pushing up into Niall’s touch, embarrassingly overeager. 

Smiling in a smug way that probably would’ve earned him a thump round the head if Liam hadn’t been otherwise engaged, Niall leans down to flick his tongue softly against one nipple before closing his mouth around it, pinching the other one in earnest. Liam makes a sound that he’s pretty sure is only audible to dogs.

Niall’s mouth feels wet and hot and perfect as he presses shivery kisses down one breast and over to the other one, sucking gently. His fingertips ghost down Liam’s stomach to the waistband of the boxers he’s insisted on wearing, even though Harry had been disturbingly quick to produce a selection of women’s undergarments once this whole predicament had begun. 

“Oh,” Liam gasps out quietly, still writhing at the feeling of Niall’s tongue. He wonders dizzily if Niall is going to eat him out, tease him gently with his tongue at the source of all this, and the thought of it practically makes him comes right there. 

Niall grins wickedly. His eyes flicking up to meet Liam’s as he sets his teeth ever so gently against a nipple, pushing one hand down his boxers and trailing a fingertip softly up and down, just barely nudging his clit.

 

It’s only then that Liam notices just how wet he’s been this whole time. Unable to stifle a moan, Liam squirms about aimlessly, not sure whether to push down towards Niall’s finger or up toward his mouth. 

Niall continues to stroke, pressing his fingertip just up inside and then slipping it back out again as Liam is wracked with a wave of pleasure. Niall grazes his teeth over Liam’s nipple before sucking at it hard, warm tongue sweeping over and over the stiff, flushed peak.

“Niall, fuck, Niall,” Liam chants, not caring that he doesn’t make sense, not caring how desperate he sounds. “Niall, please.”

Niall detaches himself for a moment, and his lips are shiny with spit and his eyes are dark with desire, but he still manages a cocky laugh. 

“I said don’t worry,” he repeats, and then he’s wriggling Liam’s boxers down off his hips and kissing down his stomach, sucking hard at the ticklish skin, running blunt fingernails up and down his thighs. At this point in time, Liam can’t really find it in him to worry about anything but surviving the night.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Niall’s tongue is only seconds away from Liam’s clit. Drawing out the moment, he uses one finger to tease Liam, circling his hole over and over and making him tense up involuntarily. A red flush comes over Liam’s face; he’s putty in Niall’s hands, and they both know it. 

Just as Liam is starting to convince himself that this whole thing has been an elaborate ruse and Niall isn’t actually going to let him come at all, he turns his head to press a kiss right at the top of Liam’s inner thigh, just shy of where Liam needs him to be.

“Please,” Liam repeats desperately. Niall just hums nonchalantly and keeps tickling him for a few moments more, and then finally, finally, he tongues over Liam’s clit.

It ony takes a moment of soft lapping before Liam comes, letting out a groan that’s half-surprised as he presses his legs together in a vice grip around Niall’s head, hand coming up unconsciously to cup his own breast. 

Niall stills his movements as Liam rides out the waves, tingles running up and down his body as he trembles all over. He only waits a few more seconds, however, before nestling his head back in between Liam’s thighs and licking him slowly, all the way up and down. 

Liam can’t hold back a whimper. He feels over-sensitized and shaky, but at the same time he’s still turned on as hell. 

Niall pauses to look up at him. “You can go again, yeah? You want more?” 

There’s something in his tone that Liam’s body responds to on a primal level. It’s all he can do to breathe out a “yeah,” and then Niall is back where he’d left off. 

Niall keeps looking up at Liam as he tongues him, blue eyes wide and hazy. Every so often, Liam will moan or spasm and Niall’s eyes will struggle to focus and then flutter closed for a second, like he’s just as turned on as Liam is.

It feels even nicer the second time around, if that’s even possible, and Liam groans in disappointment when Niall pulls up off him once again. 

“Tell me what you want,” Niall demands, wiping his slick mouth with the back of one hand. “Tell me what’s good.”

“Fingers,” Liam manages to grit out, hips working up blindly into the air without Niall to hold him down. “In me, God, please--”

Niall just nods and leans down to start sucking his clit again, trailing a hand gently up his thigh and then pressing one finger in slowly, little by little.

It goes in easily enough and pretty soon Niall is fucking him with it obscenely, timing his thrusts in and out with the movement of his tongue on Liam’s clit.

It feels strange to be the one having this done to him rather than be the one doing it, but there’s something intensely pleasurable about the slow slide of it, in and out, and the way it makes him feel inside.

Then, Niall adds another finger. It’s definitely more of a stretch, a burning kind of feeling that makes him ache and clench, moaning softly as Niall eases them in inch by inch. 

He holds them still for a moment so that Liam can acclimatize and then starts fucking him again, slow and gentle. It makes him wonder what it would be like to be stretched around Niall’s flushed, leaking cock.

He forces himself to abandon that school of thought almost immediately, groaning as Niall crooks his fingers upward and drags along something that makes Liam’s toes curl, pursing his mouth and sucking hard at his clit. 

It’s more than Liam can take, and he comes again, arching his back and groaning. Niall backs off his clit but finger-fucks him through it, groaning appreciatively at the way Liam’s muscles flutter and contract around him. 

Liam’s brain feels like it’s melted and then poured out his ears, but when Niall asks him, “again?” he can’t help his own weak nod. 

Niall waits courteously for a few more seconds and then slides his fingers back inside, this time scissoring them apart a little bit and pressing his tongue against Liam’s entrance, lapping up in between them. 

Liam doesn’t know what to do with himself, hands coming up to clench tightly in Niall’s hair as a litany of curses escapes his mouth. Niall’s eyes flick up to look at him again, and Liam squeezes his thighs tight around Niall’s head, letting out a tiny sob of pleasure. He feels stretched-out and a little bit sore, and Niall is completely unrelenting in a way that makes Liam kind of want him to stay down there forever. Hell, it almost seems like he wouldn’t mind.

It doesn’t take Liam long to shudder over into his third orgasm, the muscles in his legs jumping up in a way that’s completely involuntary. Niall works him through it and then pulls away, knowing somehow that Liam won’t be able to take any more. 

For a few minutes, Liam just lies there, legs and arms akimbo as he struggles to catch his breath. He’s still tingling with the aftershocks, thousands of little fireworks going off all over his body.

Finally, he’s able to catch Niall’s eye. If his grin got any more smug, it would probably start causing air pollution. As Liam watches, he brings his index and middle fingers to his mouth and sucks lasciviously. 

“Oh my God,” says Liam, finding another pillow and hiding his face in it. 

He can’t really pretend to mind all that much, though, and when Niall pulls his dick out to jerk off without even bothering with the privacy of the bathroom, he can’t keep from checking it out.


	2. 2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam still has a vagina, and Niall is still pretty good with them.

Niall slips two fingers inside of him, and Liam’s head thunks back painfully against glass.

 

He’s sitting on top of the bathroom vanity with his legs spread wide apart and Niall knelt down in between them. Niall has one hand shoved down the front of his jeans, and he’s wanking himself off as he eats Liam out with a singular intensity that’s still kind of shocking even after a week and a half of it happening regularly. 

 

Hardly even registering the pain, Liam closes his eyes blissfully. One hand tangles in Niall’s blond hair, tugging without any real urgency. He wants to draw it out a bit, but he knows Niall and the rest of the lads have a signing to get to. 

 

Sure enough, he gets in one more good lick before Liam shudders and comes with a muffled curse. Niall draws his fingers out and immediately starts fumbling with the zip of his jeans until his dick is freed, bringing himself off as rapidly as possible while Liam watches. It’s fascinating to him the way Niall comes apart so easily, just from doing this.

Niall darts a quick look over at Liam and his breath picks audibly. Liam hops down from the vanity and jiggles about helpfully on his way to pick up the bathrobe hanging from a hook on the door.

“Go on, then.”

Niall huffs out a sound that’s half-laugh and half-whimper and finally comes. Grimacing at the mess, he zips himself back up and cleans off his hand with some toilet paper before fumbling his discarded hat back onto his head. 

“I’d better be off,” he says, pulling Liam into a hug once his bathrobe is tied shut. 

“Have fun,” Liam replies, somewhat morosely. He wishes he could come to the signing too, maybe in a disguise or something, but management all seem to think it’s too risky. 

 

Niall leaves the bathroom, the door to Liam’s suite banging open and then shut a few seconds later. Liam slides off the counter with a sigh and then pads over to the bed, burrowing underneath the covers and turning on MTV in a futile attempt to distract himself. 

It doesn’t work, of course, and his mind is drawn back to the same thing it always is when he’s alone. The official excuse everyone’s been giving is that Liam has the flu, but the fans are already in something of an uproar and Liam is afraid that excuse won’t fly for much longer. Every time he logs in to Twitter there are countless messages about how Justin Bieber would keep playing shows even if he had mad cow disease. Liam reads almost all of them, even though it makes him want to bang his head against the nearest wall.

 

He’s done a pretty good job at denying the truth to himself thus far, but the longer he goes without turning back, the harder it is to ignore the fact that he’s going to have to leave the band if it continues. He’s managed to avoid talking to the others about it as well; they all seem positive that it won’t last forever, and he doesn’t want to dampen their optimism by describing the sinking feeling in his stomach every time one of them references a time when he’ll get his dick back.

 

It’s probably a terrible way to cope with things, and it definitely isn’t normal, but lately the only thing that can make Liam feel better about this whole situation is Niall. Or, more specifically, Niall’s tongue. 

 

He really is amazingly good at making Liam come. After that first shocking time, Liam had tried swearing to himself that it was a one-time deal, that it would never happen again, that he’d be able to deal with this stupid new body on his own now.

 

Unsurprisingly, that hadn’t been the case. He’d found himself recalling the feeling of Niall’s fingers stretching him out at random moments throughout the day, remembering the way Niall’s tongue felt against his clit, and all of a sudden he would start feeling distracted and hot all over until he’d reached down and rubbed his own clit, stretched himself out with a few of his own fingers. No matter how hard he’d tried, though, it was never the same. Liam hadn’t been sure how to go about asking Niall for more, even though he’d known it was what he wanted. 

 

A few days after the first time, Niall had taken care of that for him.

 

Everyone was piled into one room to watch something on pay-per-view. Liam and Niall had the bed, while Zayn, Harry, and Louis were all nestled together in front of the TV with a pile of assorted pillows and blankets. The movie turned out to be ludicrously boring, and Liam was considering a kip when Niall’s hand slid over his leg. 

Liam looked over at him, wondering if it could’ve been an accident and trying to ignore the way his pulse sped up at the feeling. 

Niall’s eyes didn’t move from the TV screen, but his hand didn’t move, either. After a few moments, he slid it up a little further. 

Liam squirmed, feeling heat rise to his face. Niall smirked and shifted so that he could comfortably loop his arms around Liam’s waist, pausing to glance down at the others. All three of them were lost to the world, conked out on top of each other and snoring peacefully. 

Satisfied, Niall reached down to run his fingers just under the waistband of Liam’s boxers. 

Liam was once again embarrassed by the ferocity of his own reaction, pressing his thighs tight together as he struggled to concentrate on the movie.

Niall kept teasing him like that for way longer than was necessary, ghosting his fingertips across the planes of Liam’s stomach, reaching down to tease his clit for a moment and then keeping his hands completely still for minutes on end. Liam had turned his head and started begging with his eyes after about five minutes, but Niall didn’t appear to be swayed.

Eventually, Liam grew desperate enough to consider just rolling away from Niall and taking care of business himself. That was when Niall finally sunk two fingers deep inside him, thumbing over his clit at the same time. Liam bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep quiet, but he couldn’t help the small noise that escaped him as he came.

He craned his neck forward to check on the other three, but they were all still fast asleep. 

Liam felt guilty afterwards, but there was something exhilarating about it as well. And when Niall snuck back into his room early the next morning to bury his head between Liam’s thighs and make him come twice more, dizzily, the guilt was pretty much eradicated completely. 

They’ve been messing around almost nonstop since then, culminating in the morning’s bathroom adventure. Liam is constantly walking around on legs that feel like jelly, hair mussed, blissfully content. Niall doesn’t retain quite the same afterglow that Liam does, but he doesn’t seem nearly as frustrated as Liam would in his situation. He always gets Liam off to the best of his ability and only bothers with himself once he’s finished. 

Liam would never have thought he’d grow used to the sight of Niall jerking off in front of him, fist slipping roughly up and down his own cock as he eyes Liam’s naked body, but there it is. It’s weird the first few times, but now Liam can hardly think of anything but what it would be like to get fucked by him. 

It’s a much better distractor than MTV, at least. Liam situates himself under the covers, sliding a hand down to rest experimentally between his legs. It had been supremely awkward at first, and he still hasn’t completely gotten the hang of it, but Danielle had texted him a few highly graphic tips the other night that definitely helped.

Soon Liam is rubbing in soft circles over his clit with one hand and fucking himself with three fingers of the other one, jerking up helplessly into his own grip. It feels so good, all the way down to his toes. He pushes his fingers in deep, crooking upwards like Danielle had instructed him to and feeling carefully for that one spot, wondering at the way his own muscles stretch and contract. His fingertips press against it and Liam moans out loud. 

He always starts out thinking of Danielle, but entirely unbidden thoughts of Niall being the one to do this to him are showing up thick and fast in Liam’s head. He imagines Niall’s body over his, holding him still and fucking him hard. It would be like this, but better; faster and deeper, with no tired wrists after.

“Niall--” Liam gasps out the name, twisting in the sheets as he comes around his own fingers.

Falling back against the pillows, Liam shudders as he realizes that, strange as it may be, this is what he needs. He knows he should probably be shocked by the revelation, or something, but all he can think is that if he’s going to get kicked out of his band for sprouting the wrong genitals, he might as well get a good fuck out of it. 

 

Relieved now that he’s made his decision, no matter what a deranged and potentially friendship-altering one it is, Liam pulls the blankets over his head and attempts once more to nap. This time, he drifts off to sleep much more easily.

 

The lads all come bursting into his room a few hours later, each talking a mile a minute about the cheeky posters fans had been holding up at the signing and all the get-well presents there’d been for Liam.

 

He sits up groggily, rubbing his eyes and yawning as the other four busy themselves with whatever it is they’re doing here, which appears to be tripping over each other to order a pizza to Liam’s room and arguing over what TV channel to put on and cramming themselves into bed with Liam, who finds himself tucked tightly in between Niall and Louis. Harry is on Louis’ other side and Zayn has spread himself out across all their laps. It’s difficult to move, and way too hot, and Zayn’s weight is making his legs fall asleep, but somehow it’s exactly right. 

 

The pizza arrives, and Liam’s bed is accordingly grease-stained. Niall feels warm and solid next to him, and Liam wonders when he’ll ever find the time to tell him that he wants to fuck if impromptu cuddling piles keep on cropping up all over the place.

For now, though, it just feels good to be here with his mates and know that they aren’t treating him any differently because of what’s happened.

 

\---

 

There’s a television appearance ridiculously early the next morning, and Niall has to leave so soon that there isn’t time for them to do anything at all. 

 

Liam is settling in for a morning of lying about moodily and eating pancakes in bed when the lock on his door clicks. 

 

Images of crazy fans or obscure hotel murderers fill Liam’s mind, and he gropes around for his phone before he realizes that it’s all the way in the bathroom charging. 

 

Before he has a chance to roll under the bed, Niall comes sneaking around the corner, still in his interview outfit. 

 

"Jesus Christ," says Liam, throwing a pillow at him on sheer principle. "You scared the piss out of me."

 

"Sorry," says Niall contritely. He abandons the pretense of sneaking and comes over to sit down on the end of Liam's bed, looking pleased with himself. 

 

"Shouldn't you be at the TV thing?"

 

"Ditched," says Niall. This time he doesn't sound contrite at all.

 

Liam sighs. "It’s not gym class, Niall, it’s national television." He can’t bring himself to sound quite as stern as he would normally, because this means he’ll at least have some company, but he still doesn’t approve. 

 

"Alright, Dad." Niall rolls his eyes, then pauses a moment to consider. "Bit weird to call you that now, really."

 

"I'm still me," Liam says, stung. 

 

Niall scoots over to put an arm around him, curling up close on the bed. “I know.”

This body must have some kind of Pavlovian response to Niall by now, because Liam's heart rate increases almost instantaneously. Face flushing, he remembers the conclusion he'd arrived at the other day. This would be a perfect time to put his plan into action. 

 

"So," Niall says bluntly, as though he's reading Liam's mind. "How about it?"

 

Liam unties his robe in answer, tossing it aside and laughing at Niall’s expression. He looks like a kid on Christmas.

 

He rocks forward immediately to kiss Liam's neck, smiling against the skin when Liam turns his head to allow better access and groans. As he kisses his way down, he presses the heel of his hand against Liam's clit and lets him grind against it, hips rolling in rhythmic motions. Liam sighs, wondering why he'd never thought to do this himself. 

 

Niall mouths over a nipple, tugging at it gently with his teeth and then licking broadly to soothe it before continuing downward, planting feather-light kisses down Liam's flexing stomach.

He takes the heel of his hand away, trailing one finger through the wetness before sucking a kiss right above Liam's clit. 

 

Liam groans, and with a superhuman effort, tugs Niall away. He knows that if he lets him get started, they’ll both end up borderline delirious and nothing productive will end up happening at all.

 

Niall looks up at Liam, eyes confused. He's flushed all the way down his neck, mouth slick and pupils already blown, like Liam's been the one eating him out like a demon this whole time. Liam knows he's still the same person inside, which only serves to make how hot he finds this even more distressing. 

 

"Er," he says eloquently. "You can fuck me if you want. I mean, if that's not, you know. Weird." Liam feels slightly horrified as he stumbles over the words. He has no idea how girls can do this and make it sound sexy, because right now he feels like the world's biggest prick. 

 

Niall, at least, doesn't seem to mind very much. His eyes go impossibly wide and a stupid grin spreads out over his face, as though he'd never dared to hope for this.

 

"Really? That's alright?"

 

"I mean, yeah," says Liam, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. 

 

Niall lays a hand on the inside of Liam's thigh, dialing his grin down a couple watts until it’s just a genuine smile. 

 

"It'll be good," he says, and Liam believes him.

 

Then he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet, out of which he pulls a condom. Liam raises both eyebrows, but declines to say anything. 

 

Niall places it off to the side for now, and then returns his attentions to Liam. He can fit two fingers inside easily by now, but they still make Liam's toes curl as Niall presses up, fucking him hard and deep. Three is still something of a stretch, and Niall is excruciating careful even though Liam is possibly wetter than he's ever been. 

He keeps them still for a long time after pushing past the initial resistance, letting Liam's body adjust before slowly pushing out and back in again. It makes Liam feel full, something he's never associated with sexual gratification until now. It all makes sudden, perfect sense as he rocks down to meet Niall's thrusts. 

 

Abruptly, Niall pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then pushes them in hard and fast. It almost hurts, but not enough for Liam to say anything because then Niall might stop and that sounds like the worst possible outcome of anything ever. 

 

Niall looks desperate, fumbling with his zipper and leaning in to blow softly against Liam's clit while his fingers surge deep inside. Liam makes a noise that isn't quite human, already so close to coming that it’s maddening.

 

Before he can, Niall eases out his fingers and concentrates on getting out of his jeans. Liam groans in frustration, but the sight of Niall shucking his pants and boxers off and tossing them over the side of the bed distracts him. Pretty soon his shirt is gone, too, and Liam stares. It's not like Niall’s never been naked in front of him, but seeing it in a sexual context is strange. It's not doing anything to turn him off the idea of this happening, though, Liam has to admit. 

 

Finally, Niall retrieves the condom from where he'd stashed it and rolls it carefully onto his dick, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he concentrates. Liam watches in fascination as the latex rolls on. Niall has a nice cock. Objectively nice, of course. It bumps stiffly against his stomach and it's flushed a darker color than his cheeks, and as he rolls on the condom a bead of precome smears off the tip. These things probably shouldn't turn Liam on as much as they do, but he's pretty much given up on trying to pretend that anything about this is normal.

 

Niall resettles himself, laying his hand on Liam's thigh again and looking up into his eyes. "Tell me if something's off and I'll stop, alright?"

 

Liam nods, feeling a thrill of nervous excitement down his spine. Niall is his friend, and he trusts him, but this is some pretty wildly uncharted territory. 

 

Niall takes hold of his dick and presses himself against Liam’s entrance, the blunt pressure unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Slowly but steadily, Niall slides in the head.

Liam gasps out loud. He can feel himself stretching around Niall's dick, bigger and more solid than the fingers even though it's barely inside. 

 

"More," he grits out, and Niall complies, pushing carefully until he's all the way in. 

 

It feels like more than he thought it would, the sensation of fullness and being stretched out and the aching, tingly burn overwhelming even when Niall isn't moving. 

 

He reaches out for something to hold onto, fingers digging into Niall’s back. It's only then that he realizes Niall has been muttering a constant stream of quiet encouragement to him in a wrecked voice. 

 

"Fuck, Liam, you're doing so good, just tell me when--"

 

Liam gingerly attempts to push down on Niall's dick. It’s good, even through the slight haze of pain, and he nods enough that Niall will be able to see it.

 

Niall pulls out and then pushes carefully back in thrusting shallowly over and over again. Liam can feel Niall's dick throbbing inside of him, and he clenches down involuntarily. 

 

Niall squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a harsh sound, pulling out a little bit farther this time and then thrusting in harder. Liam moves with him, pressed back against the pillows. Niall’s solid weight pins him down as he pushes in and out, stretching him open. 

 

"Harder," he gasps out, too far gone to even be embarrassed. 

 

Niall complies immediately, angling upwards as he presses in hard and then drags slowly out. His dick nudges against Liam’s g-spot, and Liam moans loudly. He can't help it, can't help anything as Niall thrusts in again, this time hitting it dead on.

 

"Touch yourself," says Niall, and Liam obeys, reaching down between them to rub over his clit furiously. He’s almost dripping wet by now, and it’s an overload of feelings, the shivery pleasure of touching his clit along with the fullness of Niall inside him.

 

Liam’s fingers dig into Niall’s back as he thrusts up into him one more time. He leans in to kiss Liam on the mouth, pressing their lips together artlessly even as he rocks forward with another thrust. It’s the first time he’s done that, and stupid as it is, that’s what pushes Liam over the edge, shuddering into an orgasm and moaning Niall’s name as he comes.

 

Niall’s mouth falls open in response, eyes sliding shut. He fucks Liam through the aftershocks, growing more and more erratic as Liam clenches tighter around him and shakes. 

 

Just as it’s getting to be too much, Niall tenses up and comes, panting as his thrusts gradually still. 

 

He pulls out carefully but Liam still feels every inch, tender and sore in the best way possible. Then he ties off the condom and sinks it into the trash, flopping down next to Liam and winding an arm around him. Liam stares at the ceiling, attempting to collect himself. 

 

“Hey,” says Niall, nudging Liam’s shoulder with his knuckles. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah,” says Liam, and he realizes as he says it that he is. Better than alright, even. Those had been some pretty top-shelf orgasms.

 

Niall pushes his sweaty hair out of his face, and reflects for a moment. “Wanna take a shower?”

 

Liam isn’t entirely certain his legs will even work to get him that far, but all the more reason to have Niall carry him there. And then maybe fuck him again under the spray. 

“Sounds good.”

\-- -- --

When Liam wakes up the next morning, he has his dick back. Louis has the room next door, and is therefore the first to hear his excited whooping through the walls.

 

“See?” he says, to no one in particular. “Routine tour shenanigans.”


End file.
